Broken
by cgal120
Summary: Off-shot of The Kids From Yesterday. After arguing with Arthur, Alfred walked out into the night. This is what happened to him.


_**Broken**_

The slamming of the front door behind him was enough of signal for Alfred to just keep running. He was sick and tired of all the arguing that evening, the feelings in his chest just seeming to enclose him in his own mind so much more than he had ever felt in a very long time.

Arthur was supposed to be the one to make him feel better, to stick by his side for better or for worse. That was how it went, right? When you make a commitment you stick to it even through the tough spots? Alfred really couldn't fathom any of the hundreds of thoughts that were going through his head so just kept running. He could feel his feet starting to ache and his pulse rate skyrocketing to such heights he had long since forgotten, but he couldn't stop.

Nothing seemed right anymore; he couldn't place what was up or what was down, good or bad, wrong or right. Nothing made sense to him. It was as though a magnet had just touched his inner compass and sent spinning him in any which direction; it was sickening and scary and he wanted it all to end.

Panting heavily to try and get air back into his lungs, Alfred collapsed onto damp grass and curled up on the floor. He daren't look where he was for in his mind he couldn't trust himself. For all he knew, he could have tricked himself into thinking he was running away, he could still actually be in the front garden. Arthur could still be stood there glaring at him like he hated him to the pits of Hell.

Groaning, Alfred clutched at his chest as the air left his body again. Tears pricked up in his eyes as he rolled onto his back, sobs choking out of his system. He could feel them sliding down from the corners of his eyes and into his hair, joining the damp from the grass but he really couldn't care at that moment. He was breaking all over again and there was nothing that he could do about it.

He hadn't felt this bad since the 1930s, at the time of the Great Depression. He could remember those days so clearly at that moment, how he had physically collapsed in the street as Wall Street crashed. He remembered the tormenting thoughts that had gone through his mind, the trauma he had been forced to relieve. The pain he had felt back then in his chest very much rivalled that of what he was feeling now, and it scared him. He didn't want to go back to that. He was a different person then, distant, distracted. He knew it was why he had overcompensated back then. Everyone around him was struggling and he could feel their pain, he could hear all their cries for help in the back of his mind. It was why he was so loud and obnoxious when the war arose; he wanted to help them, he really did, but they were driving him insane so he drowned them out and put on a fake smile, a fake laugh, fake everything in an attempt to try and make things better.

Arthur had known then. He was aware that Alfred was in pain, but not to that extent. Alfred had kept it too much of a secret for even his bosses to know what was going on his head. They were too preoccupied with trying to re-establish the stock market. In those days, Alfred used to run away a lot. He could find solace in hidden areas that he could see the Empire State building being built. He was conflicted about that also at the time; their were two sides of him again, one that questioned how his people could build such a magnificent sight such as that but not be able to employ most of the citizens, the other feeling the inflation of hope the building created.

Rolling onto his back, Alfred opened his eyes once more and stared up at the stars. The tiny flickering lights above him calmed him as they had done when he was child. He was fairly grateful that that was still a part of him, smiling a little at them fondly. They helped calm him down, the good memories that he could find up there fighting through to push away the bad.

He remembered the first man on the moon; how his people cheered and watched in awe as the pictures came back from space. It was an almost magical day, the elated feeling that spread over him in those hours making him feel so very relaxed it was as if he had no troubles in the world. Or with the world as the case had been at the time. All the time it seemed…

Shaking his head as the depressing thoughts came back to him; Alfred sat up and put his head into his hands. He really was starting to feel physically sick from all of the thoughts, every urge in his body telling him to throw up. Stumbling to his feet, Alfred made his way over to the nearest waste bin and threw up into it. He coughed and wheezed, gagging slightly at the bile that escaped him.

Spitting out the excess, he took a shaky breath and looked around finally. He was in a park, an old park that he used to go to years ago. He smiled a little and walked deeper in, running his hands over the cold metal of the merry-go-round. It span lightly as he moved round, the American spinning it a bit more before walking on over to the swings. He looked at the rusty chains, taking in all the damage time had done to the metal. The park had been somewhat of a safe haven for the American during the years that Arthur had not been with him. When the first ghost had been intimidating him, he had ran from his house. He had no longer felt safe there so sought solace in other places of his country. He had found this place a few decades after the attack had first happened; the ghost having started to cause more problems during Arthur's departure. Alfred could remember how he had fled in tears only to bump into a boy roughly his 'age' talking about a new park that was being opened to the public. Alfred had enjoyed going to the park with the other boys, so much so that he had taken Arthur there when he had returned to visit him once more. He was a lot taller by that point, but he had spent every day of the thirty years visiting that park at different times. As the boys he'd played with grew older, he had to disappear at the times they got there as he never aged. He watched from a distance as they returned with girlfriends for courting, then with children, then grandchildren. He had watched as those friends he had made moved on with their lives and forgot about him as he watched like a ghost from the side lines.

But now it was his turn. He had daughters back at that house waiting for him. Melinda and Grace. What were they thinking of him right at that moment? Did they hate him for walking out like that? Was Arthur going to take them back to England without him? Were they going to grow up without him in their lives? They probably hated him for walking out like that when he had promised that he would always be there for them. What kind of father was he? He knew that he wouldn't be able to cope with it all, the pressures he faced now that they were older. In the past, he could have fled like this without fear of any consequences as he had little responsibility back then. He was young and could do what he wanted because it was only himself he'd affect. But now he had 11-year-old daughters waiting for him to come home. He had not only run away from that fight, he had run away from them.

What kind of hero was he if he abandoned the people that needed him the most? Those girls had been through enough already without him adding more stress for them.

Grace was very troubled. He knew how much she was going through, just simply from hearing the occasional nightmares she had. She seemed to look up to him the most, always wanting to play video games with him and go horseback riding. She always went to him first but he had walked out.

And Melinda… That was a tale all of it's own. She had been to hell and back before she had even reached 10 years old and all because he and Arthur had to leave her behind that night. If he had just taken them with them she wouldn't have been taken, tortured. He blamed himself for that evening and the following events that happened. Her nightmares. She had tortured herself with images of those men cutting into her. It was something from an R18 horror movie and yet she had experienced it first hand at age 7. He had gone through the very same so he should have noticed the signs of her lack of sleep, her jumpiness, her unwillingness to go to bed in the evening. He should have helped her sooner.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, not even sure if anyone was even listening to him. Where was the proof that anyone was even listening to him pleading for forgiveness in the middle of a derelict park in the middle of the night? Who really would forgive him? He felt as though he had come to the right place. It was old and broken, just as he was becoming. The pain increased in his chest once more and he groaned slightly, clutching at the area above his heart to try and stop the ache. It was as though his heart really was breaking, every fibre in his being slowly getting destroyed by his own self-hatred.

Looking at his pocket, he felt the bump of his phone within it and pulled it out to have a look at the device. He turned it on again and spotted the voicemail message that was still there from a little while ago. He knew whom it was from but had never bothered to check it.

Now seemed to be the right time.

He dialled the voicemail number and put the device to his ear, waiting through the dialling tone until it finally got to the options to listen to the message.

"_Alfred? Where are you? I just got in from work; they let me go early today, thank God. I know you weren't expecting me here so soon and you're perfectly capable of travelling around London alone, but I got worried… You know what I'm like… The girls aren't in yet so I assume they're at school still, but could you call me and let me know when you're going to be in? Oh, and could you bring in a take-away for dinner tonight? It'd make a change and give you a break. You'll probably be in before you hear this though… Oh well, I'll tell you then then. Wherever you are, please come home safe. Knowing you, you're probably lost somewhere, but just give me a call and I'll come find you. As I always do. I love you. Uh, um, bye, then._"

Alfred listened to the message one more time and smiled a little. Arthur did love him, he didn't care that the message was from a while ago; it still proved that Arthur loved him. He cared enough to ask where he was, what he was doing, to show his worry and concern for him.

He said he loved him. He said he'd come and find him.

Shaking his head, Alfred got back onto his feet and looked around the park once more. He had always felt as though he was a part of that park; staying the same as the other children grew older and passed on. He was always in the same place, the same un-aging place and that had scared him more than anything. But now he realised he had grown, he had aged. Maybe not physically much; he still looked 19, but mentally. He could cope, if only for a little while, so he picked his pace and ran back to the house.

It was dark and quiet, not something he was used to even when everything was perfectly okay. His footsteps sounded louder than they normally did, but he figured that was because he was more aware of himself at that moment. He walked up to the front door and opened it quietly, sneaking inside in the hopes of not waking anybody up. He walked upstairs silently, looking into the girl's bedrooms and noticing that their beds were empty. His heart sped up slightly at the thought that Arthur really had taken them away from him, but calmed as he looked into the master bedroom and saw them all in bed.

Melinda was sat up beside Arthur, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Dad."

With that one word, Alfred knew where he was supposed to be.

_**Notes:**_

**Yes, an off-shot of The Kids From Yesterday. This was what happened to Alfred after he had stormed out in Chapter 27.**

**Anyone who has just read this without reading The Heart Never Lies and The Kids From Yesterday, if it doesn't make sense, go read them.**


End file.
